make-it-mavis

[make-it-mavis]

Disturbance (Chapter 1 - Torment)

Fic below the cut; alternate links: Ao3 || FF

Hello everybody! Today I'd like to present to you a story that I've been chipping away at for a few years before actually writing it all down. This will be my first published multi-chapter fic—I usually tend to favor oneshots, but this one is too big for just one chapter. It's been a long time coming, since I wanted to handle what's being covered here with as much dignity as possible and didn't want to accidentally trivialize anything. For reference, this takes place when Felix and Tamora's relationship is starting to get serious.

A warning, as this is a little heavier than my normal stories: if you're sensitive to scenarios where alcohol is involved in near-sexual situations, then please use your judgment on reading this one. The scene in question is in the first chapter and will be referenced in later chapters.

Felix startled awake to what sounded like a small explosion, followed by the shattering of glass and a series of hissed profanities. In a daze, he felt around for his special lady, who was absent from her usual spot beside him in their bed.

"Tammy?!"

He grabbed his hammer off his toolbelt hanging next to the nightstand and jumped out of bed, running towards the source of the sound that had awakened him.

"Tamora?! Are you okay?"

Reaching the bathroom, he flicked on the light switch. Tamora stood behind the remains of the bathroom mirror, her right hand still balled into a fist. Blood coated most of her hand and dripped into a small puddle on the tiled floor. She blinked and stared blankly at the floor as she adjusted to the light, a glaze having just recently cleared from her eyes, watching the inky red fluid channeling into the tile grout. 

Looking over to the wall, Felix noticed an impressive fist-shaped crater where the mirror had hung.

"Here, darlin', let me help with that..." He guided her to the sink and scooped handfuls of warm water from the stream to rinse out the cuts. Tamora only moved to lean on the counter with her other arm, stone-faced and unresponsive to any apparent pain, with her injured hand completely limp.

Once the bath had cleared away the blood and stray debris, it revealed ribbons of torn skin peeling off her knuckles, flayed by the glass shards. Felix's stomach wrenched at the sight and he tapped her hand with his hammer, immediately healing her. He patted her hand dry with a towel and took it in his for a kiss where the injuries had been moments before.

"All better!" he piped, with a hesitant smile. 

The pleasant tingle of the hammer snapped her out of her statue-like state, and at the contact of his kiss she reflexively held his hand more tightly. 

She raised her other hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, getting a clear look at what once was the mirror. 

"Aw, Felix, I'm sorry." Her voice came out in a low rasp, a tinge of shame in her tone. "Guess I wasn't runnin' on full batteries. I saw movement and didn't wanna take any chances..." 

He shook his head. 

"I'll have that mirror good as new tomorrow mornin', don't you worry about it. Just watch out you don't step on the pieces." 

—

Her muscles had already tensed when she woke up. The one reassurance she offered herself was that at least she hadn't accidentally clocked her poor little guy in the face or tossed him off the bed in the waning hallucinations of the nightmare. 

Too overwhelmed to scream, she could only watch the neon-green entrails flooding the cab of the long-suffering old pickup truck and gumming the moving parts to a stop. What started as a drive into town on an errand from Mama had corrupted when the cloudy sky turned to charcoal, split down the middle with a thundering tear, and poured the disgusting green metallic slurry into every orifice of the vehicle. The doors worked but she couldn't leave, not with him still in the passenger seat, and the liquid contents of the cab stayed suspended inside despite the opening available. 

Brad couldn't move, and couldn't breathe through the thick sludge as she somehow could. It dripped out of his nose and mouth whenever he tried to talk to her, and he fearfully refused her attempts to push him out of the truck. The struggle lasted for hours until her hands phased through him and she couldn't physically touch him anymore. 'Aren't you freezing?' he'd nonsensically sputtered out, before the cy-bugs climbed in through the open doors and each began gnawing on a different part of him...

She bit her hand to keep from vomiting at the memory of it. If Mama's land on the outskirts of town wasn't safe then neither was a game right across the station from those monsters—at least that's what her instincts would not stop screaming at her. She wilted slightly at her self-assigned post, head lightly knocking against the glass pane in front of her. 

Felix awoke to see her silhouette by the window, leaning on the sill. 

"Is something wrong?" he whispered. 

She glanced back at him. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, Lady Love. What's going on?"

"Thought I heard something," she shrugged. 

He joined her at the window and looked out into the familiar surroundings of his game. The perpetual midnight sky lay peacefully above as it always had. Everything was still; Niceland wasn't the sort of place where anyone was out and about at this hour. Beyond the screen, he could faintly make out the flickering lampposts by the buildings across the street from the arcade, and the flash of the streetlights illuminating the occasional passing vehicle. 

He placed a hand on hers and almost recoiled at how cold it was. 

"We're okay, Tammy. Everyone's okay."

She sighed. 

"I know." 

He paused for a few minutes, quietly sifting through his collection of uncertainties to try and figure out how to respond. 

"Why don't you come back to bed? It's awful chilly tonight," was the best he could muster. The only pajama clothing she wore was an oversized T-shirt, and he had no idea how long she'd been standing there. She didn't even seem to be aware of the temperature. 

The sergeant turned over her hand to grasp his, but said nothing.

"Tamora, everyone's safe and we're not goin' anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up. That's a promise."

In the low light he saw the shadow of a smile. 

"I'll hold you to it."

They returned to bed and Felix made sure to pull the covers up over her shoulders. She tucked him into her arms and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. The thumping of his heartbeat—quicker than hers as expected, but steady and reassuring—lulled her to sleep. 

He had thought it was just one bad night for her. But in the morning light when he went to open the curtains, he noticed overlapping sets of her handprints on the part of the windowsill where she had been keeping watch.

—

Several nights later he woke up to a harsh, low scratching making its way down the hallway outside the apartment. He froze in terror—Tamora had stayed late for work and gone out afterwards, telling him not to wait up for her. He broke into an instant cold sweat at the thought of a cy-bug evading her watch and coming into the game. 

As quietly as he could, he rolled out of bed and rummaged around in his toolbox next to the closet. Finding a heavy wrench, he clasped it tightly and snuck towards the entryway. He hesitated only a moment to pick up his hammer as well. 

The distant rumble rose to a horrible, continuous scraping as it came closer and closer to his door. Felix's heart pounded and shook his limbs, making his grip on the tools tremble. 

The sound reached his door and stopped. Felix's ears rang in the sudden silence and his mouth went dry. He almost fell backwards at the sudden forceful knock afterwards. 

"Felix? Babe?" 

"Tammy?" 

A long pause. 

"Yeah?" 

He collapsed on the floor, panting in relief. 

"You...you really scared me, honeybadger! Give me just a second and I'll let you in." 

After composing himself, he opened the door and nearly hit the floor again when Tamora fell into the room, landing on her hands and knees. 

"Tammy!! Oh my land, are you alright?!" 

He took her hand to help her up, and she snickered. 

"Wanna...come get comfy down here." 

The sour smell of alcohol broke over him in a wave. For the second time that night, he put a hand to his chest and caught his breath. He chanced a peek out the door and saw a long gash running down the hallway at about her shoulder height. It was impressive that she even had enough physical and mental acuity left to make it all the way to the apartment. 

"Tamora, you're going to bed." 

She cocked her eyebrows and grinned. 

"Can you walk?" 

"Kinda stupid question...issat. Watch." 

She slowly rose to her feet and stumbled again, but ran with the forward momentum and charged right through the bedroom doorway. 

Felix rushed into the bedroom and turned on a light to find her hunched against the wall, fist in the air, as though she was celebrating a victory. He placed his tools down on the nightstand, and with some effort he guided her to the bed. 

"Tammy, listen to me. I'm gonna bring you some water in case you need it later. If you have to go to the bathroom, yell for me. I don't want you falling down in there and hittin' your head on anything. I'll be on the couch." 

She stared at him for a few minutes and nodded. 

"You're...the best. Take such good care a' me..." she grabbed his face in one hand and lightly shook his head back and forth by the chin, squeezing his cheeks. "Cute little fella. Very pretty." 

Felix chuckled and a blush crept onto his cheeks. He picked up her hand off his face, running a thumb over her knuckles. She watched him leave for the kitchen and return with a large mug of water, then gratefully downed it in seconds when he handed it to her.

"There you go,” he sighed, placing the empty mug back on the nightstand. “Now, I don't know how you can ever be comfortable in all this armor, but let me at least make sure you don't have to sleep in it." 

He removed her boots and got to work unlatching the plates covering her torso. 

"I have to...you need to know. You're…" Tamora put her hands on his shoulders and stared at him, desperately trying to overcome her temporary lack of verbal communication ability.

"I’m not sure I understand. Can you show me what’s going on?" 

She hugged him and kissed the base of his neck, patting his back. 

"Need to do...something here. It—the words," she sputtered in frustration.

"You're all right. Do you wanna think about...the words while we get ready?" 

Tamora nodded and released him. 

After a few minutes of decoupling and shifting around the various pieces of her armor, Felix noticed that she had become unusually quiet. Taking his eyes off his work, he looked up to see her staring at him again, pupils dilated. He tried to ignore it and pulled the now-disconnected chestplate off of her, but the action set something off. 

"It was this...!" she trailed off as she whipped around, startling him, and pinned him down to the mattress with a sloppy kiss. 

The taste alone told him she’d had some of Tapper's strongest, a concoction that had knocked him off his stool from just a sniff when he'd curiously sampled it. Her attempt to unbutton his pajama shirt was quickly abandoned for lack of coordination, in favor of rolling it up. 

"You wanna do...like that, Fix-It? Sssomeone's bold today..." 

Alarmed, Felix pushed against one shoulder and pulled at the other, trying to roll or twist her off of himself. He could hardly get the leverage to even shift himself around, let alone move her. 

"Top, huh. Hafta work for that..."

He shook his head and managed to pull his legs out from under her on either side. Feet flat on the bed, he heaved himself a few inches up and away, causing her to slide off of him and onto the quilt. The motion put enough distance between them for him to brace his hands against her shoulders and nudge her backwards. 

"We're not doing that right now! Tam, for goodness' sake you’re in no condition for any of this!" 

Something about the panic in his voice and expression stopped her. He very rarely shouted, and realizing that she was the cause of his fear chilled over her amorous state. The room pitched from side to side as she propped herself up on her hands and shifted further away from him.

He worried that his heavy breathing and the inadvertent redness of his cheeks from the kiss would drown out his words. But for an instant, Felix saw realization and shock pass over her face before she grunted out a soft embarrassed noise and rolled over. She shuffled to the far side of the bed, facing away from him. 

Catching his breath, the situation caught up with him and made his insides churn. He refused to have that sort of experience with her in her current state, and if she’d regretted it he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself. 

He kissed the top of her ear. 

"I'm sorry for yelling. But you're not doing very well right now. We'll talk about it in the morning. For now I just need to get you settled." 

"Hey...hurts?"

"What hurts?" 

She shook her head and pointed over her shoulder at him. 

"Me? No, you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. You just...gave me a bit of a fright." 

She turned around and fumbled for his hand, kissing his fingers. 

"Sorry...brain’s bad. Thought you wanted...I’m sorry."

Of course. She was still Tammy. But he couldn't name what he was feeling. She'd never have gotten to this point in a normal state and she even had the awareness not to hurt him now, inebriated more than he’d ever seen her before. 

He ached to communicate, every fiber of him wanting to come up with some right combination of words that would fix this, but he had to remind himself that she wouldn't be able to process it anyway. Felix gave Tamora's hand a squeeze before tucking it into her chest, and smiled feebly. 

"I'm going to finish getting you ready to go to sleep, is that okay?" 

“Yeah,” She nodded. “S’okay...I won’t move.”

Over the next several minutes he removed the rest of her armor and laid it in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. By the time he left and came back with the refilled mug of water and empty bowl, she was already asleep. He left the items on the nightstand and pulled up her covers, tucking all of the available pillows under her head and shoulders to elevate them and keep her from rolling over. 

Seeing her in the condition she was in that night twisted and stabbed at him. If she'd just been injured or gotten into a fight then it'd be obvious how to help. And if it wasn't, he could ask. But this...a constant background noise of low-grade anxiety grew louder at the sight of her obscured vulnerability made physical. 

"I don't know what happened out there but have a nice rest, sugarplum," Felix whispered, wiping his eyes before they could produce any tears. He kissed the tip of her nose and left for the couch with an armful of extra sheets.

—

Tagging some of my WIR buddies: @ask-icancraft-it @ashleybenlove @sgtcalhouns @coneygoil @kittysfigurines24 @fix-it-feesh @shitpost-it-tristan @make-it-mavis @datamining-your-heart @nijimarii @scarfboyxiv @secretsocietyofgamejumpers @juanitascribbles @wreckitralphrestart

Let me know if you would like your name added to or removed from the tags for future fics!

[make-it-mavis]

Do you still make art?

I do, over at @pointy-kitty

I'm also on BlueSky under pointykitty (watch out for naughty art there, and on Instagram as pointikitty, but I don't post as much there.

I just haven't made any WiR art in a long time, as it's kind of a dormant interest for me. I still think about the Shitgoblins a fair bit, but they're just not the avenue my actual making-stuff motivation tends to travel down most days.

[make-it-mavis]

Happy March 15th everybody

[make-it-mavis]

Hello again, I’m sorry I keep pestering you! I promise this is my last question for awhile! Just wondering if there was anywhere else I could follow you. Like insta or something? But if you don’t want to share your social media with some stranger on tumbler I totally understand!! Take care! 😊

Not a bother at all!

I honestly mostly stick to tumblr, but my art blog is citrusratz and my personal blog is peppermint-rat. I'm also on insta as citrusratz but I don't post much.

[make-it-mavis]

Hey! I've got some more questions! I'm on a roll lol! Thank you so so much for answering the last one!

This ones more of a what if. But I just got to randomly thinking, what if Litwak kept Turbotime instead of scraping it for parts, and then he went "you know what? This game was a real gem of its time, let's see if I can get it fixed and back up and running." And the game ended up working just fine and he put it BACK in the arcade years later? I read somewhere that if a game cabinet ends up getting plugged back in the characters within it respawn. But they don't remember anything about their lives before getting unplugged. So if it were to happen, Turbo wouldn't remember committing any of his grisly crimes, or even Mavis. Also I wonder how the arcade as a whole would take to the most feared criminal in their history literally coming back from the dead. I just was curious about your outlook. :)

This next question is about Mavis, you kind of alluded in Tightrope that Mavis was presumed dead like Turbo in that conversation with Felix and Ralph. So did she fake her own death to be able to go with him to take over Sugarush? If she did, how did she pull that off?

Thats all I got for today, I'm sorry for the long winded questions! I get to thinking sometimes, then I fall right down into a rabbit hole. I know that the chances of Turbotime ever getting plugged in again are absolutely zero. Litwak more than likely had it scrapped for parts, or just downright had it taken to the junkyard to rot. Which is so heartbreaking to even think about. But I just want him back man! He was such an excellent and formidable villain. Probably the very last great Disney villain, especially in recent years. Their writing has just been so lazy and lackluster recently. Disappointing. (*cough cough*, that sorry excuse of a sequel that is just downright insulting to the first wreck it Ralph movie). He was hands down one of the best parts of the first movie. And of course it doesn't help that I have it down bad for him now thanks to you!! I was terrified of him as a kid, but you somehow managed to make me have the hots for him?! Like HOW?! Thank you for tolerating my rambling lol. It's so good to hear from you again!:)

First off, I will say again, every time I can make someone hot for that little grey bean I gain a year on my life

ANYWAY

1. Huh! I never actually considered that as a possibility. I guess somehow it didn't occur to me to think about how a game being plugged back in would work, but it happens in RBTI. PERSONALLY... I feel like there would not be any reset on the characters' minds, especially if they weren't in the game when it happened. If we're assuming the cabinets have memory storage, unplugging them wouldn't erase that. But maybe having the game boot up again would physically summon Turbo back into Turbo Time, and he'd have a lot to answer for. Unless the actual game's memory unit was replaced, I don't think the characters would have any reason to forget, but even if it was, I think the game would spawn new versions of the characters. So there would be a New Turbo strutting around, but the Old Turbo would still be alive and hiding. Which would do great for his psyche I'm sure.

2. Yup, after Sugar Rush was plugged in and the plan to usurp the throne was concocted, Mavis knew that in order to live her life as Pyrite unquestioned, the arcade would have to believe she was dead. I never fully figured out how she would go about faking her death though. She definitely would not have stuck around long enough after to see Felix mourn.

Thank you for the asks and little thought exercises! Always fun to muse

[make-it-mavis]

I was just rereading some old fics this morning and it unearthed some old feelings that I need to gripe about again - though idk if I ever felt comfortable sharing them on here before a large shift in my social circle

I really resent the seemingly largely accepted idea that writers aren't allowed to be hurt when the people closest to them refuse to read their writing. And I don't mean little blurbs, I mean books that take several years of hard work.

No, no one is obligated to read anyone's work. But you're not wrong to hope that people who claim to care about you would care that you worked so hard on something. Even if the subject matter isn't something they would read independent of you. The point is you wrote it, and that should matter enough.

You spend several years writing a sci-fi book. Your friend doesn't give a shit about sci-fi, but they give a shit about you, so they read it.

Or you finish the book and they treat it like a sci-fi book written by a stranger, and don't read it. Caring that it was written by you does not come into the equation. And they don't have enough faith in your writing skills that they think they could find anything enjoyable about reading it.

How the hell is that not hurtful? How can you say the writer is wrong for being crestfallen when people they love don't put in the effort to love them back, just because it might be kind of boring?

Idk man, support your writer friends. Don't pretend it would take more work for you to read a story than it did for them to write it.

[make-it-mavis]

get yourself a main character whos two primary emotions are "little cunt" and "catatonic with grief"

[make-it-mavis]

Hey, long time no talk!

I have a possibly unusual question;

A lot of your fics are posted directly to tumblr - I've never done that before, and I wanted to ask if there was anything to keep in mind or be aware of when doing so.

The fics are already posted to Ao3, so would it make more sense to simply link them once, or is it reasonable to post each chapter here as well?

You're the only person I could think of with experience in the subject, sorry for bothering you!

Hello old chum!

Well, first off something to be aware of is that if I could do it all again, I wouldn't have posted full fics directly on tumblr. Simply because the Read More sometimes just doesn't work and people are text-walled. I think the long-post coding on here is better now but I just feel like it's good manners to be mindful of such things. Little essays are one thing but full several page fics are another.

In recent years I'm a much bigger fan of linking to AO3. Give the fic title along with important info (fandom, word count, characters involved, content warnings, summary, etc.) then include a short text preview to hook the audience. And then insert the link. That's how I like to do it, anyway!

As for posting a chapter at a time, it's a matter of preference, but I usually prefer it over just making one post. It's just more fun to queue the chapters up and watch them gradually pop up. Plus that way you have a better chance of being seen by more people and drawing readers in. Same format as above but with info about the specific chapters and a link to the first chapter as well.

Making a pinned post with links to your different fics is not a bad idea either.

I do wish that I had stuck with AO3 links for Homesick but also the shortest chapter in that was three words long lmao

Good luck and happy writing!

[make-it-mavis]

Hey! Its me again! How are you doing? I was just re-visiting your work and had a couple questions! What is Turbo and Mavis' accents? I was thinking Mavis' was Southern, but I'm not for sure lol. Also did Turbo ever meet the sprites from Roadblasters? If he did what was that like? I was always curious about that. Thats all the questions I have for now! I hope you're doing good! :)

-boogies in-

Mavis is indeed Southern! Honestly when I listen to Goodbye Earl by The Chicks I can hear her very clearly.

Turbo (I know he has a canon voice but I choose to believe KC was a voice he was putting on), for me, has an American east coast accent. My 1 to 1 voice claim for him is Rocket Raccoon. Very importantly including the high-pitched genuine laughter ("He's gonna wake up tomorrow and he's nOT GONNA KNOW WHERE HIS EYE IS")

I figure he probably met the Roadblasters guys at least once. I think he would have run into them at Tapper's and tried to go over and assert his dominance, but he would get drowned out by the flood of attention the guys from the shiny new game were getting. Which would be like +10 insanity points.

Thanks for the ask!

[make-it-mavis]

Hey I hope you're doing well! I read through all your fics on ao3, and oh my lord your writing is AMAZING!! Like I can't even put into words how unbelievably talented you are! I literally bawled my eyes out through the entirety of homesick, it was so get wrenchingly sad. You tore my heart straight out of my chest! I can tell you put your heart and soul into your work, it really shows in your writing. Like I could almost physically feel in my heart what Mavis was feeling! She is a very strong girl, I could not imagine losing someone I love and then everyone hating me, and being ostracized at the same time I don't think Could live through that. I really admired her for that! I love love LOVE Mavis! Homesick will always have a place in my heart! It was one of the best things I've ever read in all my 22 years of living lol! Please don't ever stop writing you truly have a gift! All your other work with the shit goblins is phenomenal as well! I love them! Oh and one more thing, I am so in love with your Turbo, like I have the hugest crush lmao, I really adore the personality you gave him, and your art work of him has my heart! So sorry for rambling! I tend to do that with things I love, and I LOVE your work! I can't wait to see what else you do in the future!:D Take care! <3

Gggh ghhh hhh ghghh hh fff I just log on to check what's goin on over here and I am SLAMMED with emotion ohhh buddy you're so sweet?? Thank you so much for taking the time to read all my stuff and then send me such a lovely message! It really means the world to me. Seriously warmed my heart and made my day, thank you, you lovely creature <3

[make-it-mavis]

Welcome Home

A Follow-up to Homesick 9910 words, 2 chapters Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis Themes: Hurt/Comfort, hopeful ending CW: Depression, suicidal intentions Summary: After getting Roadblasters and his own game unplugged, Turbo's world is rocked off its axis. He spends months completely lost, unsure of his place in the world, unsure of who he is without his game and glory. But, really, the answers are undeniable: He has no place anymore, and he is nobody. There is no point in hiding nothing. But if he is going to reveal himself to the arcade that believes his own crime killed him, he figures his best friend might as well be the first one to know. Even if she could very well kill him herself when she finds out.

--------------------------------------------

Turbo could not have said how much time had passed since he ruined his own life. Up above, the passing of time was marked by the usual rituals. The arcade opened, the arcade closed. Sprites slept, sprites woke. Weekends were marked by a distinctive boom in business. One could guess the season by observing what time of day the arcade was most crowded. Decor around Devout sprites’ homes and Game Central Station would be a close imitation of whatever Litwak had hung up in the arcade proper for annual holidays. But Turbo could not rely on these signs from his prison under the world. Any glimpses he was granted of the surface were fleeting, separated by long periods of blindness, deafness, and death-like sleep. But time made itself known, all the same. Even an existence as meager as his would not be forgotten by time, nor would it be shown any mercy. Turbo could not see it, but always, he could feel its eyes upon him.

No, he did not know how many days, weeks, or months he had been in the dark. He did know that he had been suspended in zero-gravity long enough for his body strength to waste away, leaving him winded just from pulling himself along the underside of the ground. He knew that he had been lost in silence long enough to hear voices echoing from the deep, blaming him, mocking him for what he had become. He knew that the man he was before had sunk far enough into the distance that he could no longer see him. He could remember his own name. Time had just worn away all memory of what it meant.

There came a point when, for the first time since the incident, Turbo’s situation was about to change. All of his maddening, painful work had finally paid off just enough to free him from the void, so that he could drag himself right into another. In this void, however, he felt different. In the code space of Fix-it Felix Jr., the passage of time no longer seemed like an unending, unknowable road. The end was finally in sight, and he could feel a sweeping pressure inside him, as if he had begun to step on the brake pedal. He knew, with a nauseating mix of fear and relief, that his suffering would soon be over, or at the very least, different. There was just one thing he absolutely had to do first.

He had to see Mavis.

(Read the rest here!)

[make-it-mavis]

So I uhhh realized I have a post-Homesick shitgoblins first reunion fic just. Totally done and sitting in my docs unpublished for. Some ungodly reason

So that’s comin’ today

[make-it-mavis]

Pokes my head back in here to say

Don’t worry guys, I’m doing good. Lots of changes going down lately but I am not absent due to being dead or depressed or anything. I’ve just been caught up in other creative pursuits! 

I don’t think its possible for me to leave these babies behind but if I somehow did I would say something rather than ghost. Thank you for the huge backlog of notes and the nice messages though <3

[make-it-mavis]

How fitting that this was my 1000th post

TEN gotdamn years

[make-it-mavis]

TEN gotdamn years

[make-it-mavis]

-drags myself by my claws out of the steaming tar pit, choking out sludge, inhaling it, choking again, snorting-

Hey guys hows it hangin

[make-it-mavis]

“Well, well, well! What have we here?”

Thinkin about this bitch a lot lately. Clopin from Hunchback has huge Pyrite vibes and I love the Court of Miracles scene for her

“You’re very clever to have found our hideaway. Unfortunately, you won’t live to tell the tale :)”